


Bridges

by Aculos



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz, Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer
Genre: Alexmis, Crossover, M/M, Rating: Gay, Tsundere Artemis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28438476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aculos/pseuds/Aculos
Summary: Alex arrives undercover at St. Bart's and he is completely caught off guard by the elusive Artemis Fowl II.
Relationships: Artemis Fowl II/Alex Rider
Comments: 59
Kudos: 144





	1. Surveying Bridges

**Author's Note:**

> Some spoilers for Alex Rider: Point Blanc. Set before the events in The Lost Colony.
> 
> Many many thanks to Emma (tinytreehouse) for taking time and effort to beta this. She is brilliant!  
> 
> 
> To Joy for being a wonderful muse and encouraging me to write this. This would only exist in my brain if it weren't for you. I hope you enjoy it!

Love can be found here too. It rests in the lap of the gods  _ -Ovid, Metamorphoses 7;25 _

* * *

“Did the first boarding school almost killing me not do it for you?” he asked, sipping on his lukewarm cola.

Jones looked unamused.  “That was not our intention. We were very sorry about how that mission turned out, Alex.”

“Oh!” he exclaimed, “I can absolutely tell. You know, from the way you’re sending me from one dangerous situation into another,” he said, rolling his eyes.

Jones sighed.  “Alex, that’s not necessary. This won’t be dangerous at all.” 

“So what is it then? Another murderous billionaire? A psychopath with nuclear weapons?”

Jones handed him a brown paper portfolio.

“You really should consider going digital.”

“It only takes one successful hacking of our system to endanger the lives of every single operative.”

“Operative,” muttered Alex, quietly furious at the objectification of lives as he opened the manilla folder. A fourteen year old boy stared back at him. Alex raised a curious eyebrow. 

“Artemis Fowl the Second. We’ve been monitoring him for a while along with Interpol and the CIA among others.” Jones began, settling into her office chair.

“This week, a painting was both stolen and re-gifted to the world. We suspected the painting, The Fairy Thief, was in the hands of a group operating under the name Sparrow and Crane. All our intell pointed to the painting being stored at The International Bank in Munich. That is, until the painting suddenly emerged at the Louvre. Co-incidentally, Artemis Fowl was in Munich before he disappeared from the city with no trace.”

“You’re trying to tell me that  _ he _ robbed The International Bank?” Alex looked incredulous. He was used to not underestimating people, but the kid looked like he’d have trouble opening a soda lid. 

Jones sighed. “Page two. His associate, Butler.”

Alex turned the page and visibly paled.

“I’m not…”

Jones interrupted him before he could turn down the assignment. “Butler won’t be present. St. Bartleby’s School for Young Gentlemen do not allow personal employees on ground. And Mr. Butler is banned because of a... prior incident.” She cleared her throat. 

Alex looked uncomfortable. 

“Go down to visit Smithers before you leave,” she said dismissively, her eyes hardened and Alex knew it would be futile to argue. 

* * *

He considered telling the driver to turn around and take him back to the airport. Mostly Alex ached to be back home with Jack and Tom, perhaps enjoying a Chinese takeaway and laughing over an old samurai movie together. He felt his airways constrict as he was nearing the school, so he shut his eyes, slowly counting to ten. Before he finished the taxi driver was knocking on the window and gesturing to his suitcase, which was already taken out of the boot. Alex stepped out, wondering why the car didn’t take him all the way to the entrance. The driver noticed his expression. 

“Only vetted vehicles, my boy.”

Alex received a single pat on the shoulder before the taxi driver drove off. He hadn’t asked for a payment and Alex felt a fool for considering asking the undercover agent to take him back home. 

He had himself and his items scanned in the guard house before they generously allowed him to journey all the way up to the main building by foot. The fact that this school’s security could almost rival that of Point Blanc concerned him. 

Following an exhausting tour of the school buildings and grounds, Alex was finally given some time to acclimate in his own room. After being unceremoniously told he would be joining the other students in Yeat’s House, he was shown to his small room.   
As he unpacked his suitcase, he dug out the only item given to him from Smithers. The man had looked exceedingly pleased with himself as he had handed Alex a phone. It looked brand new and resembled the latest model on the market. 

“You’ll be quite happy with this one,” he said in his booming voice.

Alex took the phone from the man, quietly noticing the unusually slender fingers that didn’t quite match the rest of his rotund frame. Alex examined it meticulously, careful not to press any buttons on the sides to accidentally trigger something. 

Finally he looked at Smithers again.

“So… what does it do?” 

“Ah!” Smithers took the phone from Alex with a beaming smile, unlocked it with and opened Outlook.

“You can send us emails!” He said cheerfully, turning the screen to show Alex.” With information about the target. See, I’ve saved Blunt as Uncle C and Jones as Aunty J in your contacts.”

Alex waited many painstaking moments, hoping desperately that Smithers would continue. 

“And?”

“And? And you can take pictures and call your friends and download games, however please note per your contract the department will not be paying for any in game purchases.”

“I don’t have a contract. I’m fourteen.”

Smithers looked embarrassed and stumbled over his words “Yes, yes of course you are. Obviously that’s why you’re only getting this phone to take with you.”

He grabbed Alex by the shoulders and began steering him towards the exit.

“But last time-” Alex managed to shout before the door shut in his face. 

* * *

For all intents and purposes, St. Bartleby’s School for Young Gentlemen was a completely normal boarding school. A fact which Alex was completely aware of and yet he half expected to meet a heavily guarded off corridor when he turned a corner and spent nights sleepless because he kept dreaming of his own face staring back at him. 

It was eight days later and Alex, donned in his navy school blazer, black trousers and hastily done up tie joined the other students for registration. He was waved over to a free seat by a few of his classmates. His apprehension and gut wrenching fear that this school would be another Point Blanc had fizzled away as he quickly made friends with the boys in his year. They were all nice, but strangely disconnected from the world in a way that Alex had found rich people usually were. Alex was pleased he wasn’t using an alias this time. It would be too risky to pretend to be the Friend’s son again. Instead he was simply Alex Rider and was here on a scholarship. 

After classes Alex sat in his house's common room, eagerly trying to catch up with his neglected studies. He looked around and was stunned by the normalcy surrounding him. Groups of students quietly sitting in corners, enjoying hushed conversations broken up by bouts of loud laughter and others, like Alex, were studying or mulling over a cup of tea. 

Alex was actually grateful for being able to have a semblance of a normal life here at the school. 

Despite his attempts at studying, most of his days were busy with classes, sports and banting with his new friends, resulting in the day being over before Alex knew it. Because he had joined in the middle of term Alex could feel the pressure of upcoming tests, something which neither students nor teachers took lightly. On his first day Alex had been told by Principal Guiney that the school prided themselves on their high standard and that Alex was expected to keep up with the other students. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


It was late at night, around an hour after lights out when Alex quietly opened his door and snuck out. He soundlessly crept through the darkened halls, having memorised the route the day before. His breath condensed in the cold air and Alex was glad he was wearing a jumper over his pyjamas.   
Walking through the empty hallways, he felt a liberating sense of freedom. Having arrived at his destination, he pulled at the door handles and breathed a sigh of relief that the library was unlocked. He walked past row upon row of tall shelves laden with books until he came to the very back of the large library where the reading desks were located. Alex turned left and sat by the last desk facing tall stained glass windows. He grabbed the book he had hidden behind the desk before being thrown out at closing hour and spent the next few quiet hours studying. 

  
  


Two days later during Alex’s second night in the library, he noticed a soft glow from a reading light in the right wing of the library. He hadn’t heard anyone enter, but was sure the other person must have seen the light from Alex’s lamp. Alex was secretly pleased that he wasn’t the only one studying until late in the night. The soft yellow glow from across the room combined with the heavy stillness of night were comforting. After some hours, Alex was unable to stifle his yawns. As he walked out he briefly caught a glimpse of the silhouette of his nighttime companion bouncing off a wall. He paused and considered saying goodnight, but the silence in the library felt almost sacred. Disturbing the comfortable quiet they had cultivated would feel like a betrayal of the unspoken agreement between them. 

  
  


Another two days went by and night had fallen over the school. Alex was back at the library, but his time his night friend had made it down before him. He was now certain it wasn’t any of the fourth form students from his house. Alex smiled as he turned his usual left on the corridor towards his desk and a night full of peaceful studying. 

Alex supposed he didn’t need to be studying late into the night so often, but there was a thrill to the adventure that urged Alex to get up and out of his bed. Slipping his feet into a pair of warm red velvet moccasins he ventured through the darkened halls again.   
The library was dark and empty during his fourth visit. Tonight, instead of turning left, he took a right turn at the end of the corridor towards the unexplored right wing of the library, where his nightly study partner spent his time. Alex studied his desk. He felt compelled to figure out who the mystery person was, however the anonymity of their situation intrigued Alex. He decided to leave their identity be.   
However, Alex couldn’t resist his curiosity. He did want to get to know the person who spent his nights quietly studying with him in the dead of the night. Alex studied the books piled high on the table. Clearly, whoever he was, he was planning on returning.   
The piles of books were all on the subjects of quantum mechanics, astrophysics and published scientific journals. Alex breathed out an impressed  _ fuck _ , as he picked up one book after the other.   
He found the selection amusing once he got over the initial surprise. His late night friend was into some heavy stuff, but also reading travel guides to Death Valley and Edinborough.   
Alex turned around and went searching. He had just the right thing.   
Alex placed the book on the table. He saw some loose sheets of paper sticking out of a book and grabbed them. They were all scribbled with numbers and equations and Alex was simultaneously impressed and a bit frightened at the level of intellect. Finding an unwritten piece of graph paper, he wrote a quick note, afraid that he’d spent too much time lingering and stuck it into the book.

_ You might enjoy some light reading. _

_ \- A friend _

Having completed this, Alex finally turned around and headed to his own desk and the hours of studying that awaited him. At some point he noticed the reading light across the room had been turned on and Alex thought he heard a soft laugh. 

It was raining heavily outside by the time Alex made it to the library. He’d fallen asleep, days of sleepless nights finally catching up with him, making it late into the night by the time he made it down.   
When he reached his desk he found a book waiting for him with a piece of graph paper sharply folded in half. 

_ A very fitting choice.  _

_ I see you have a sense of humour. _

_ Perhaps you’ll enjoy this. _

It was not signed. Alex noticed the handwriting was flourished but neat. On his desk was a copy of A Brief History of Time by Stephen Hawking. Alex flipped through the pages and noticed notes written in the margin, the same neat and flourished handwriting as the note. Inside the hardcover Alex saw a handwritten date 25.12.1992. Alex found his cheeks getting hot as he realised his night friend had given him their own copy of the book. The book felt heavy in his hands.   
Looking up, Alex stared at the light source bleeding through the shelves of books in between the two of them and wondered about the soul sitting in that chair.   
He felt a deep sense of yearning and wanted to cross the invisible boundary they had unwittingly created and maintained.  
Instead he controlled his instincts, instead sitting down as he ignored his history homework and began reading the book. The date in the book confirmed his suspicions that the person sitting across him divided by the dark of the night was one of the older students. He swallowed the lump in his throat and decided to push away any more thoughts about him.

Alex didn’t sleep that night. The day passed in a blur. The rain continued throughout the day and he sat by the window sill of his house watching the raindrops distort the world and tore through the book. 

* * *

Alex wandered the halls, as he was wont to do. 

He wasn’t expecting the extremely packed daily schedule of St. Bart’s, especially not after Point Blanc and having gone to an inner city day school for his entire life, the rigid planning of his almost every hour was frustrating him. And beyond the simple low seething anger over his time being controlled, was his inability to do the job he was sent for. Alex could feel the frustration building inside him, but was unsure where to lay the blame: with MI6 for sending him here in the first place or with the school for not understanding the concept of a free period. 

Alex impatiently ripped open another door without knocking and peered inside.  
Dusty sports equipment lined the walls of the small room. The amount of unlocked doors in this school was astounding. Alex’s confusion over the discrepancies in security level grew.   
Gaining entrance to St. Bart’s was almost impossible without a valid reason, however once one was securely inside, the security level deteriorated to what could best be described as the work of a sleep deprived parent of three toddlers.   
Alex dejectedly closed the door and leant against the wall sighing. In all honesty, Alex was beginning to suspect that MI6 had sent him to the wrong school. He and Fowl were supposedly in the same year, but Alex hadn’t attended any classes with him. 

Whilst Alex was certain that Fowl would be trouble, he had not suspected that tracking the target would be the difficult part. He had been at the school for over two weeks and had yet to even catch a glimpse of him. In those two weeks Alex had heard plenty of gossip ranging from boys who supposedly had girlfriends at St. Mary’s School for Demure Young Ladies (they don’t sound demure, he’d murmured), of students accused of cheating at tests, rumours that Mark was a klepto but to not worry because he’d eventually give back whatever he’d taken from you. 

But not a single word of the elusive Artemis Fowl II. Alex had studied the portfolio until he was sick of the image staring back at him. He was certain he could find the teenager with the piercing blue eyes in a room full of a hundred students. But Fowl was nowhere to be seen. Not even a whisper of his name. It’s like he didn’t exist. 

“ _ Fowl! _ ”

An angrily spat out sentence, followed by different voices all muttering the same name. The voices came from around the corner and Alex felt a long forgotten rush of adrenaline as he tore off the wall and rushed around the corner. 

As he turned the corner he saw a small huddle of students gathered around something posted on the wall. Hoping to come across as simply casually curious, he stuck his hands in his trouser pockets and approached them.   
He looked at the five people gathered there, but Fowl was not one of them. Two of the students were from his year and house. Alex cast them a quizzical look.  
Ben, the redhead with a giant forehead, nodded towards the notice board.

“What’s going on?” Alex asked and caught the attention of the student who had yelled out.

“Look at it yourself.” He pushed Alex to the front so he could read the paper pinned on the noticeboard.

TEST RESULTS, HISTORY S4 

Alex was surprised to find his own name at number five on the list. Not bad he thought. He was sure he was going to flop the test considering how he’d neglected studying for it. His eyes caught the name on the top.

“Artemis Fowl,” he said. So he was here after all.

“Exactly! The conceited asshole doesn’t even show up for classes anymore! Why is he even here?” he shouted, glad to have someone who would listen to his plight. 

Alex latched on to his anger, hoping to get more information from him.  “So who is this Fowl? I don’t think I’ve met him yet.” 

“Pray you don’t, he’s a massive dick.” 

His friend beside him laughed, “You’re such a shit loser, Shaun.”

“Oh piss off,” Shaun sneered to his friend. He grabbed Alex by the elbow, pulled him closer, as if confiding a secret. Shaun was a surprisingly big guy, both taller and wider than Alex. 

“Don’t fuck with Fowl, new kid. He’s the biggest fucking asshole you’ll ever have the misfortune of meeting.”

Alex could swear that Shaun looked afraid. His friend who’d called him a loser threw his arm around Shaun and cast Alex a sympathetic look.

“He’s a bit upset that Fowl bought out his family business after he smart mouthed him,” Peter said with an apologetic smile. 

“You mispronounced ‘bullied,’” a clipped voice from behind them interjected. 

Alex whipped around and was face to face with the blue eyes from his dossier. After all this searching Alex had finally located the target and he struggled to describe his emotions. Underwhelmed, was perhaps the right word. Before him stood a short, very pale boy, wearing the same school uniform as everyone else that somehow fit him like a tailored designer suit. Alex reminded himself of the content of the dossier, of the dozen Interpol files on Fowl. And if that didn’t help, he only had to glance over to Shaun who had fear written all over his face. 

Alex decided to break the silence.  “Congratulations on your score,” he said, hoping he sounded friendly and casual. 

Fowl turned his eyes to him and shrugged.  “It doesn’t matter much.”

Alex reached out his hand “Nice to meet you. I’m Alex Rider.”

Fowl stared at his outreached hand and his icy eyes took in both Alex and Shaun who stood next to him.

“No, thank you,” came his curt reply as Fowl turned around on his heel and left as quickly as he’d arrived. 

Alex stood frozen, his hand still outstretched, feeling the shockwave of his first meeting with Fowl.

“Well,” said Ben, putting a hand on Alex’s shoulder and dragging him off to their next class. “That went better than expected.”


	2. Building Bridges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to my hardworking beta, Emma. You had a lot of work to do with this one! Thanks for making it readable!

It was two months after Alex first enrolled in St. Bartleby’s School for Young Gentlemen.  
So far the only contact he’d made with the target was unintentionally insulting him. Following the encounter with Shaun, Fowl had disappeared again. Alex had made a few subtle enquiries after that, relieved to finally have an excuse to ask about the student. Depending on who you asked, Artemis Fowl was a genius, a bully, a smartass, a recluse, a chronic liar, or all of the above. And those comments were mainly from the teachers. 

MI6 were pressuring him to engage with Fowl, but Alex could already tell that simply being friendly to Fowl wasn’t going to cut it. Interpol had a massive file on Fowl, but Alex wasn’t sure how much of it he believed. Reading the file, you would believe it was about a 70 year old crime boss, not a 14 year old schoolboy. Despite the sheer number of crimes this teenager was suspected of, Alex didn’t feel as though he was in any real danger here. He’d read Fowl’s dossier enough times to have it memorised and could tell that bodily harm wasn’t exactly his style. Alex thanked the gods that Fowl’s bodyguard wasn’t allowed on campus. He still wasn’t entirely sure what the man had done to be banned from the grounds. 

When he finally had a moment of quiet in the evening as he settled into bed and read the ridiculous emails Jones sent him asking for status reports. They made Alex feel like a middle aged banker reporting to his boss. You could leave it to Jones to suck all the joy out of being a spy. 

Alex put his phone away, having sent his latest ‘report’ to Mrs. Jones.

“Yes, I’ve been looking for Fowl.   
No, I haven’t seen him.   
Can I download Call of Duty?”

Jones was probably going to say no. Alex didn’t really have time to play games, but he felt it necessary to at least try and spend as much of the government funds as he could since he was very much here against his will. 

Alex slipped out of bed and proceeded his frequent ritual of sneaking out of his dormitory and studying late into the night with his night friend. After reading the book Alex had left it on their desk with a note about how he’d enjoyed reading it, but how difficult it was to wrap his mind around the different concepts in the book.   
Alex had excitedly tried discussing the subject with his housemates but to no avail. Ben had eventually taken the bullet for everyone in the common room and told Alex to shut up because he was giving him a headache.   
Two days later on his next visit, the book was back on his desk with a note telling Alex that he should keep it and an eleven page note succinctly explaining the concept of time and wormholes.   
Alex had joyfully held on to the note and along with the following notes kept them in his backpack. 

Alex had let his mind wander and he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. He heard footsteps from down the corridor. He pressed his body against the wall in a futile attempt to hide. Quickly realising that he was a sitting duck out there in the open, he decided to run for it. The library door was only a few meters ahead of him and Alex ran as fast as he could without making a sound.   
It was a new moon tonight and his hand desperately groped for the door handle in the darkness. Finally finding it, he slipped inside the library and to safety. He leant against the wall, sighing a breath of relief and thankful that he didn’t get caught sneaking out of bed. Alex had managed to stay out of trouble with the teachers so far and wanted to keep it this way. He grimaced at imagining the principal contacting his “Aunty J”.   
Alex was just about to call off the emergency and head to his desk when he felt the door open. Alex was invisible in the darkness, but he held his breath anyway. He felt the breeze from the heavy oak door open and close. A person entered the library; they were close enough that Alex could touch them if he reached out his hand. He heard their soft footsteps recede into the library. A few moments later, a soft glow from a reading light permeated the spaces between the books.   
Alex released the breath he had been holding. He could still feel the thrill of the moment all the way to the tingling in his fingertips. All he could hear was his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. This was the first time Alex had been so close to him. He felt more than annoyed by the moonless sky. If there had been just a little light he might have caught a glimpse of his friend. 

Alex considered why seeing him was so important. They had exchanged several notes so far, all unsigned, and the other person didn’t make any attempts to take things further. Alex wasn’t usually shy about initiating a conversation, but he felt strangely self-conscious of what the other student might make of him.   
As he headed over to his desk he decided that he’d take the first step. Perhaps they didn’t need to know each other’s name. Alex supposed this situation was akin to having a pen pal and began drafting a letter. At first he didn’t know what to write. What was mostly going on in his life was related to his mission and he couldn’t go around confessing to strangers that he was a secret spy working for the British government. His friend would think he was an absolute nutter.   
He looked over at the light and instead wrote about missing home, of the still raw loss of his uncle, about how ridiculously out of touch rich kids are and how he’ll never fit in here because he doesn’t own a pair of Gucci slippers.   
The words spilled out of him like a waterfall. Alex hadn’t realised how much he needed someone to talk to.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Alex was beyond surprised when he ran into Artemis Fowl on the football pitch. He was wearing the same knee high socks and shorts as everyone else, but it looked out of place on Fowl. Every shred of his being seemed to scream 'suits,' from his slicked back black hair to his delicate pianist's fingers. Alex stared. He hadn’t ever seen someone look as uncomfortable and out of place as Artemis Fowl on a football pitch.

The blond boy approached his teammates on the manicured grass, while Fowl stood away on the sidelines, refusing to approach the groups. Alex noticed that his football shoes looked brand new and wondered if Fowl even knew how to run in those. 

As they began the game, Alex realised that Fowl wasn’t playing and was instead engaged in a heated discussion with their teacher. The man looked exhausted in a way Alex had never seen before. He didn’t see how their conversation ended as the ball was kicked in his direction and Alex wasn’t intent on losing a game just because of Artemis Fowl.   
Alex was a quick runner and had great reflexes. Ten minutes into the game, his team was ahead by two goals. He was enjoying the game despite the air cold hitting his knees and face.   
The next time Alex saw Fowl was when he was on the pitch. His hair was disheveled and his pale face flushed by exertion.   
Alex opened his mouth to greet him, but the glare from Fowl shut him up and Alex ran past him.  
They were barely halfway through the game and Fowl had managed to get covered in mud. Alex had been so engrossed by the game that he had forgotten to keep an eye on Fowl. He shrugged and reasoned that his initial suspicion about the shoes was correct. 

It was shortly after half time that Alex witnessed Artemis fall this time. It wasn’t a fall as much as him getting deliberately pushed by his own teammate. The other student elbowed Fowl in the ribs while running past him. It clearly wasn’t an accident, but as the game came to a halt that’s what the student, Doughal Quinn, told their teacher. Alex stood quietly frowning at the scene, feeling uncomfortable with the situation and wanting to intervene, but held himself back to assess Fowl’s reaction. Alex witnessed as Fowl gathered himself up and glared at Quinn while attempting to brush the mud off himself. 

Ben jogged over to Alex’s side to witness the drama unfolding. 

“Fowl looks so pissed,” he whispered amusedly to Alex. 

Alex couldn’t see it. Instead Alex recognised the look. It was the same look Tom had when he’d get bullied in primary school. He could see the barely disguised pain and embarrassment in Fowl’s face. 

Before Alex knew it, he was up in Quinn’s face.

“What is your problem, Quinn?”

Doughal smirked smugly while shrugging.

“It was just an accident. Anyone knows that Left-F...Fowl isn’t known for his athletic gifts.”

Apparently his false slip up was a joke, because everyone around him was trying to hold their laughter in. Fowl stood alone, stone faced. 

The teacher finally broke them up and they returned to their game; except for Fowl, who immediately walked back to the school building. Alex kept turning his head to watch him return to the main building. Alex realised he wasn’t going to get another chance like this. 

He broke away from the game and jogged slowly over to the teacher while wincing.

“I think I twisted my ankle,” he said, remembering to look miserable.

After Alex had put on a convincing show of his bad ankle he had to follow up with an excruciating slow walk to the sports wing. As soon as Alex was inside he ran to the changing rooms. Walking past the many unlocked lockers and benches he couldn’t find Fowl anywhere. He couldn’t believe he’d already lost him. Furious at himself, Alex turned around to leave and abruptly stopped. Glaring at him was Artemis Fowl, back in his school uniform, clearly fresh out of the shower with his black hair damp and curling slightly at the edges. 

“Uh. Hi?” Alex managed, internally berating himself for sounding like an absolute idiot. 

“Why are you following me?” 

“What? That’s-”

“Don’t lie to me.” Artemis demanded deadpan. 

“I…” Alex hesitated. He didn’t know what to say. 

“I wanted to see if you were okay,” he eventually said, sheepishly running a hand through his hair. Perhaps telling the truth would be the way to gain Fowl’s trust. 

Fowl simply stared at Alex. 

After a few excruciating moments, Alex spoke up again. 

“Well?” he demanded.

“Well, what?” 

“Are you okay?”

Fowl opened his mouth and closed it again. 

“What are you hoping to accomplish, Rider?” 

Alex had barely opened his mouth before Fowl interrupted him. 

“Firstly, I don’t need you defending me. Secondly, why this sudden interest in me?”

“Oh wow, you’re really up yourself, aren’t you?” Alex laughed incredulously. 

“Excuse me?” Fowl looked shocked. 

“Just because everyone here thinks you’re hot shit doesn’t mean that I do.”

A horrified look crossed Artemis’s face. “Hot shit?” he breathed, eyes wide.

“It’s a good thing,” Alex laughed, his anger immediately dispersed. “You’re a real idiot, you know that?”

“I have higher marks than you could dream of,” Artemis countered, matter of factly. 

“And still you manage to be an idiot. It’s impressive really. Is there an elective course on that or is it a natural talent?”

“Did you come here to insult me?” Fowl said, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. 

“I’m _trying_ to be your friend, you twat, but you’re making it real hard.” Alex almost shouted, his voice echoing in the changing room. 

Artemis stood still, staring up at Alex.

“Why?” Artemis finally asked, softly. 

“Firstly,” Alex began mimicking Artemis. “I don’t like bullies, and secondly, I don’t judge people based on rumours and hearsay.”

Alex held out his hand. “Friends?” 

He noticed Artemis’s expression soften up and it surprised Alex how different he suddenly looked. 

The door slammed open and a crowd of exhausted and excited teenagers rushed in and Alex saw the defenses build up around the boy again as Artemis pushed past him. 

“I don’t need friends, Rider,” he said over his shoulder. “Or your so-called help. I can take care of myself.”

* * *

It was almost two weeks after Alex had left the letter on his night friend’s desk. Alex groaned as he dropped his head on the desk. Two weeks of lonely library visits.   
Alex berated himself for being so stupid and ruining a good thing. He’d crossed the line by getting too personal. He should have been satisfied with things as they were. Well, he thought, the status quo always feels better in retrospect. 

The library felt so quiet and suffocatingly lonely without his friend. Alex supposed he couldn’t call him a friend anymore. He felt a bone-crushing disappointment at himself.   
The place was too empty and dark. The absence from sounds of breathing, flipping pages and rapid writing muffled by the towering tombs of books felt so noticeable now that it was gone. 

Alex lifted his head and fumbled after a piece of paper. 

_\- I’m sorry for crossing the line. Can we go back to how things were before?_

Alex turned off his own light and walked through the dark to the other side. Their desk was still busy with books. He gingerly placed the letter on top of the stack of books, trying not to disturb the orderly chaos. 

Alex knew that he could easily figure out his identity. He could simply go to the library during the day and ask around. Surely someone would know who sat at this desk. It could be so easy. Alex would approach him and explain that he was the person sitting in the left wing. Let him know that he wrote the letter and... He hesitated. And then what? Tell him that they should become friends? Alex had spent too much time considering what exactly compelled him to keep coming here in the dead of night. Why was he risking getting caught by coming down to the library several times a week? Sure, his grades were doing great now, although nowhere near beating Artemis Fowl off his pedestal, but Alex didn’t care about his grades to that degree. Still, Alex was perplexed by his decisions to continue his late night habits and even more confused by his unwillingness to meet the other person face to face. Alex had a nagging feeling that he was overlooking something. Ian would always tell him that he’d get so distracted by the details that he overlooked the larger picture. 

He hovered over the table for longer than he cared to. Alex pushed aside the nagging emotions aside and decided to go to bed early. 

  
  


* * *

Of course it took Alex ages to locate Artemis Fowl again. It was only a couple of weeks since his second unsuccessful attempt at making friends with Fowl. 

This time Alex decided to do what he did best. 

He was sitting outside as one of the few students, resting against a willow tree and enjoying the crisp spring air when he saw Artemis Fowl through one of the windows in the corridor. Alex hastily packed his things away into his backpack and glanced around: There was no one else nearby. He snuck over to the building and peeked through the glass.

This was a much needed distraction. In truth, Alex was moping over the loss of his night friend and had set camp under the tree closest to the library. He was reading one of the many notes they had exchanged and it was pure luck that he looked up when he did. 

Fowl was still walking and Alex followed him from outside the building. The school building itself was large and Alex hadn’t had time to explore all the floors and corridors. After around ten minutes of walking, Fowl slowed down. He appeared to be heading to a door at the end of the corridor.  
Alex finally felt he was getting somewhere. Fowl was skulking outside instead of entering and Alex tried his best to keep an eye on him without being seen. After spending a moment texting on his phone, Fowl put it away and went inside. Alex raced over, hoping to catch a glimpse of what he was doing in there, but he was all out of luck. The windows were closed and the blinds were shut. Alex spent a while examining them, hoping to find a crack or a hole in the fabric. 

  
Alex spent almost an hour waiting outside in the cold until Fowl finally exited the room. Alex thought he looked annoyed, but he couldn’t catch a good glimpse of his face through the window.   
Unfortunately Alex lost track of Fowl as the boy headed up a flight of stairs and that was when Alex noticed he was now ten minutes late for his French class. Biting his lip, he considered his options. 

Sacrificing French grammar, he ran inside the building and retraced Fowl’s path. Alex made it to the mysterious corridor within a few minutes and eagerly ripped open the door. Or at least he tried to. Alex was momentarily confused because Fowl hadn’t locked the door behind him when he left. But now only a few minutes later the door was locked.   
Alex felt something break in him and he walked to his class in a daze. The security at this school was a farce, he thought hysterically. It was as though Schrödinger’s security was at play here. You couldn’t even get a taxi to take you to the front door, but once inside no one cared about even locking the loo door.   
But the moment Alex wanted a door open, it was mysteriously locked. 

* * *

That night, Alex could feel fatigue crawling through his limbs as he laid in bed. Moonlight slipped in the room through the crack in his blinds and lit the room. Alex had been tossing and turning for several hours, but sleep was not on the table tonight. 

He put on a jumper over his pajamas and slipped his feet into a pair of cosy slippers. He opened his door and peeked his head out. Abandoned and quiet as usual during the dead of night. He walked the same path as usual and arrived at the same place. He hadn’t been down since he left the apology note two days ago. He was on schedule. His friend ought to be there now if they had forgiven him. 

Alex felt a different kind of terrified, one that didn’t involve running for his life. He put his hand on the door handle and stepped inside. There was no warm light from the far right reading corner, only the soft cold glow of moonlight reflecting off the books. The friendship was over. 

A deafening sense of sadness fell over Alex. He thought of turning around and crawling back to bed, but he wouldn’t be able to sleep. He ought to get used to studying alone in the dark. Dejectedly Alex walked towards the reading tables. He turned his usual left and collided headfirst into Artemis Fowl. 

Fowl stumbled into a bookshelf and looked up at who was blocking his path. 

Realisation fell over both their faces at the same time and they stared at each other in quiet disbelief. 

Fowl was the one to compose himself first. 

“Ah. It’s you,” he said in an almost whisper. 

Alex stood frozen in shock. The blond spy couldn’t do anything but stare in utter disbelief at the reveal that his night friend was none other than Artemis Fowl.

After realising that Alex wasn’t going to reply Fowl murmured

“Please excuse me,” as he slipped past Alex and hurried out. 

The unexpected loud slam of the door shutting shocked Alex out of his state. He walked on shaky legs over to his desk. There was a letter waiting for him. 

Alex groaned and held his head in his hand. 

He really wished he’d gotten sent on the murderous billionaire mission instead. 

  
  


* * *

Alex could barely concentrate on his lessons after that night. He’d spent the last days oscillating between confusion and resentment at Fowl.   
He would barely listen to the lectures and was unable of uttering more than a few agreeable sentences when at lunch and free period with his friends.Tired of his internal conflict he decided to just get his job done with so he could leave this school and go back home. 

He went back to the locked door. He had stalked the nearby corridors but hadn’t seen Fowl around, which was only a good thing. Alex tried opening the door once more but again it was locked. Alex walked away and considered coming back at night to give it another try. Perhaps it was electronic and Fowl did have a key after all. The keyhole in the door might just be for show. He wondered how he’d open it considering the sorry lack of gadgets Smithers had provided.

He suddenly heard the door open and he turned around panicked. Alex was not ready for another confrontation with Fowl this soon.   
Exiting the door was Shaun. Alex stood frozen staring at him. 

“Oh hey, was that you? I didn’t realise I went over my time,” Shaun said as he approached Alex. 

Alex shrugged, hoping Shaun would keep talking, but his mind was racing with thoughts. He thought Shaun hated Fowl. Fowl clearly didn’t like him. Were they planning something? Alex felt a terrifying sinking sensation in his gut. What if Fowl knew about his mission and had planned all of this from the beginning. 

“You okay, man?” Shaun asked, looking concerned at the blond. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Alex quickly replied. Shaun didn’t seem like the type of person to pull off a long con like that. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Shaun looked nervous, “You won’t tell anyone, will you? I’m not ashamed or anything, but I promised my dad I’d keep it a secret for now.”

Alex figured he looked as confused as he felt.

“I won’t tell,” he said. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Shaun considered him for a moment and gestured to Alex to follow him. 

They walked outside and sat on a bench. 

“You know after my dad lost his job, my parents began fighting a lot. I guess they never got along in the first place, but he was just home a lot more now. Well, long story short, they’re getting divorced,” he whispered. 

“That… must be difficult for you,” Alex said sympathetically. 

Shaun continued. “Yeah, I’ve been seeing Dr. Po a lot. He’s been really nice. Telling me that it’s not my fault because according to him I have a lot of “internalised guilt”.” 

Alex put together the puzzle pieces. 

“It’s the counselors office.” he stated.

“Course. Wait, what did you think it was?”

“I thought... You know, nevermind. I must have gotten lost.” 

Shaun laughed, “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to finding your way around soon enough. Thanks for the talk, mate.”

He got up and left Alex to his thoughts. 

Alex felt like laughing or crying. Fowl was going to therapy. His secret room for planning art heists was actually therapy.   
Alex began summing up all the pieces to Fowl that he had found out on his own accord instead of relying on the information in the dossier. 

He didn’t attend classes, he was universally disliked by almost everyone, including the teachers, and he was incredibly rude and standoffish. 

But he was also lonely. He liked reading during the night. He got bullied by his classmates and he exacted hilariously targeted revenge at them. He took the time to write long notes explaining scientific concepts in a way that made Alex understand them. He had nice handwriting. 

Alex reached inside his backpack and took out the unread letter. He gripped it tightly with both hands. Alex knew he ought to read it. For some reason he was terrified of genuinely liking Artemis Fowl. Theoretically, it was an awful idea because he was a spy and he wasn’t supposed to go around making friends with the target. Or was he? Alex only knew about spy rules from James Bond movies but Bond had a different way of dealing with some of his adversaries. Alex blushed.

He quickly opened the letter. It was written in the same neat but pleasing handwriting as the other notes. 

_Dear Midnight Companion_ , it began

_I apologise for my delayed reply to your letter. I was attending some rather time sensitive business in North America. It turned out to be unsuccessful so I have adjusted my calculations and have high hopes for my next venture._

_I appreciate your effort to get to know me better but I doubt we would get along. I am somewhat inexperienced in communicating with people my age.Whilst I am quite adept at holding my own during a business meeting, I have been told on multiple occasions that my communication skills in social settings are lacking._

Alex stopped reading to laugh quietly. Yeah, no kidding. He’d been at the receiving end of Fowl’s razor sharp tongue on several occasions now. 

_I am attempting to remedy this, however, I do not have much spare time to dedicate to fanciful playdates._

_I have enjoyed our correspondence immensely. It has been eye opening to me; perhaps I should dedicate myself to the art of “making friends” with people my age. My mother would be extremely pleased with this progression._

_I am very sorry about the loss of your uncle. As someone who has lost a parental figure, although temporarily, I can relate to what you are going through. I can highly recommend chapter four in F. Roy Dean Schlippe’s book “The Psychology of Trauma and Loss in Young Children”. It was very helpful, but written for professionals, so to sum it up for you …_

Alex’s eyes glazed over as Fowl began a rather long summary of the content.  
Alex wondered if this was why he went to therapy.   
Reading the letter and knowing that it was from Fowl put everything in a different perspective. Alex needed to make a decision. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


As Alex pulled on his robe over his pyjamas, he wondered what the point was. A huge part of him mourned the disappearance of his night friend. Replacing the insightful, at times funny, and smart mystery person was the profile of Artemis Fowl. Alex had trouble combining the two entities. He was unsure if the real Artemis Fowl lived in the dossier as a criminal mastermind or if he was closer to the persona Alex had created from secret notes left in midnight books. 

He walked downstairs slower than usual, bogged down by disappointment and fear of a vacant library yet again. 

Alex turned the door handle and opened the door. 

It was silent. And dark. 

And suffocating. 

Alex felt like a fool. He felt his breath shorten and willed himself to relax. His shoulders dropped and he berated himself for acting like an idiot. He was here to _spy_ on Fowl. Not make friends with him or whatever this midnight library thing was. 

Alex let his feet carry him to his secluded desk, even though he felt a heaviness in his chest that he couldn’t determine. 

The library was shrouded in dark, but not entirely so. He looked out of the painted glass windows where the moon was full and the skies were clear. The cold glow burnt on his cheeks. 

Alex cleared the last row of bookshelves and stopped dead in his tracks. 

Artemis Fowl was sitting on his desk and flipping through his French assignment. Fowl was still in his uniform, apparently not wanting to be caught out in his pyjamas again. 

Fowl had clearly heard Alex come in but he continued casually reading through the essay. Alex stood still, as if encountering a wild animal. 

He was at a loss. Every time he had attempted to approach or initiate a conversation with Fowl he had been shut down and now... here he was, legs crossed and neatly perched on his desk, looking the most relaxed Alex had ever seen. Fowl’s pale face was moonlit and seemed almost translucent. 

Alex was elated with relief. He wondered if Fowl had been equally as fond of the connection they had forged. 

“It’s not terrible,” Fowl said finally, still looking at the papers in his hand. “Your analysis on Verlaine’s poetic syntax is interesting,” he said softly. His voice was quiet but carried an authority that only came with true confidence. 

Alex took a small step closer.

“Thanks. For not thinking it’s terrible,” Alex whispered half joking. He didn’t think now was the right time to point out the boy’s nearly non-existent social skills. And Alex did think he was genuinely attempting to be nice. 

“Who did you write about?” Alex asked.

“Rimbaud,” Fowl answered, as he looked up and they locked eyes.

Alex took another step and they were close enough that their knees touched. He gently pried the papers from Artemis’s hands and let them slip, papers scattering across the floor. Alex could hear his heartbeat drum in his ears and he worried Artemis might hear him swallow the lump in his throat. 

Alex seemed to function on some sort of impulse as he took Artemis’s now free hand and pressed it down on the table and laid his hand on top. Alex leaned in until their noses were almost touching and he looked Artemis in the eyes, dark and stormy and he wondered what people meant by eyes being a window to the soul because Alex couldn’t make anything out in his deep blue eyes. 

Before he could think about what the hell he was doing, Artemis had made the decision for him. During the half second between closing his eyes and his lips closing the small distance between them, Alex felt robbed. 

Time stood still and also disappeared like sand running through his fingers. Alex wasn’t sure what he felt. He was unsure how long they had been kissing before he suddenly remembered where he was and with whom. 

Alex discovered he did not care, because the lips against his were soft and while he’d only ever been kissed once before, it hadn’t felt anything close to this. Artemis’s other hand gripped Alex’s waist in an effort to not fall backwards as Alex pressed deeper into the kiss. 

His free hand curled around the nape of Artemis’s neck and he felt Artemis’s breath catch. Alex grinned into the kiss over Artemis’s reaction. 

Alex decided this mission wasn’t so bad after all. 


End file.
